


Prompt #1

by Sijglind



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Sam, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Wall Sex, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sijglind/pseuds/Sijglind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://theboykingandhisangel.tumblr.com/">theboykingandhisangel</a>: "Coming together after being apart for the day and they just can't wait to get their hands on each other."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt #1

**Author's Note:**

> [Give me a prompt](http://incestuousfricklefrackle.tumblr.com/ask/) on my [tumblr](http://incestuousfricklefrackle.tumblr.com/).

"—Mr. Page?"

"Huh?" Dean asks and blinks, only now realizing that he’s stopped listening to Mrs. Sanders about five minutes ago, and if Sam were here he’d no doubt stomp on his foot under the table. But who can blame him for not listening to an 80-something old woman while she accuses her neighbor of witchcraft because her geraniums look so good? He’s only come here to talk about the suspicious disappearance of Mrs. Sanders’s other neighbor, Mr. Phillips, who didn’t come home from work three days ago and has been absent since. As soon as he’d knocked, the old woman had pulled him inside, sat him down with cookies and a glass of milk and then went on and on about her neighbors and all the suspicious things they’re doing day in and day out. Dean was too flustered to do more than listen and stuff his mouth with cookies.

"Uh, pardon?" he says now while Mrs. Sanders’s eyes him reproachfully from the other side of the table, as if she knows that Dean’s been thinking about fucking his baby brother into the next surface as soon as he gets back to the motel. Dean clears his throat, looks away. Mrs. Sanders eyes narrow.

"I asked if there was anything else you wanted to know?" she finally asks and nudges the plate with the cookies away from him.

"Uh, no, thank you, that’ll be all." Relieved, Dean stands up and smiles, already halfway to the door. "You’ll hear from us should there be any more questions. I’ll see myself out."

He all but sprints down the sidewalk towards where he’d parked his baby, pulling his cell out of his pocket and checking for messages. There’s one, and Dean prays to whatever entity hasn’t stopped watching yet that it’s from Sam, saying he’s back from the library, while he opens the inbox and tries to not look like he’s running away from Mrs. Sanders.

 _Done in the library. Will be at the motel in 20_ , the message reads and Dean checks the time. Ten minutes to go until Sam gets to the motel. It’s a fifteen minute ride to the motel from Mrs. Sanders’s neighborhood. Dean gets there in five.

*

As soon as Sam’s through the door, he finds himself pressed against the next wall, Dean kicking the door shut while he ravages his brother’s mouth none too gently, tongue flicking out to lick at the seam of Sam’s lips, demanding to be let inside.

Sam grunts something incomprehensible but opens up after a few seconds, hands coming to rest on Dean’s shoulders as he tries his hardest to keep up with the pace Dean’s setting.

"Dean, what—" he finally gets out when Dean starts nibbling along his jawline, down his neck, hands pulling at the hem of Sam’s shirt. Dean growls and pushes his hips forward, grinding his already hard cock against Sam’s half-hard (and getting there) one.

"Fucking tease, Sammy. Walking around in only a towel, wet from the shower, right before I have to leave," Dean says and closes his teeth around Sam’s collar bone until Sam grunts, underlining how much he didn’t like having to wait a whole day to fuck his baby brother. "Had to listen to some old hag talking about her neighbor’s flowers while thinking about you spreading your legs for me, begging for my dick."

Sam makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and his hips snap forward, looking for friction, and Dean grinds back against him, his suit pants tight and uncomfortable.

"Fuck," Dean curses and pushes a hand between them, tries opening both their belts and pants while fucking his tongue into Sam’s mouth. Sam isn’t really helpful, ‘cause he’s rubbing against Dean’s hand until Dean snaps and whirls Sam around by his shoulder, pressing him against face-first against the wall.

"Fuck, yes," Sam groans, hoarse and husky and delicious, presses his ass back against Dean’s crotch and Dean hisses, barely manages to bring a hand around Sam’s hips to get rid of the goddamn jeans.

"Dean," Sam begs and Dean punishes him for his impatience by twisting a nipple with his free hand, makes Sam arch back into him.

"You fucking wait like I had to today," Dean growls and Sam nods eagerly, dick already pressing against the zipper of his jeans, feeling hot against Dean’s palm even through the fabric. Dean wants to whoop in joy when he finally gets Sam’s pants open. Instead he says, "off," and Sam complies while Dean fumbles with his own fly.

Sam is leaning against the wall, cheek pressed against the ugly flower wallpaper, spreads his legs and presents his ass to his brother and Dean can’t help but touch, reaches out to knead one of the perfectly rounded cheeks until Sam whimpers again and wriggles his hips, says, “Dean, please—”

Dean withdraws lube and condom from his jacket pocket before discarding the jacket. He coats two of his fingers with lube and shoves them up Sam’s ass roughly, fucking them in and out of Sam’s tight little whole without waiting for his brother to properly adjust. That’s what he gets for being a fucking tease.

Sam doesn’t seem to mind too much. He’s moaning like a porn star and pushing back against Dean’s hand to get him to go deeper. Dean presses his chest against Sam’s back, brings his mouth next to Sam’s ear, whispers, “you like that, don’t you, Sammy? Like me fucking you with my fingers, rough, before I take my dick and ram it up your tight little hole?”

Sam whimpers and nods, begs, “please, Dean, please,” and Dean tears the foil package of the condom open with his teeth, rolls it on with one hand while he still fucks his fingers into Sam.

Sam makes a sound of protest when Dean finally withdraws his fingers to coat his dick with more lube and pump it a few times before lining it up with Sam’s hole.

"Begging for it, huh, Sammy?" Dean asks and pushes in, groaning obscenely as he slips inch by inch into tight, slick heat, Sam clenching around him and biting his lips to hold in his own moan.

"Fuck, Sammy, so tight," Dean says and pushes until he bottoms out. It’s almost too much already, and Sam feels perfect around him, and he waited the whole fucking day for this.

"Move, Dean," Sam presses out between clenched teeth and pushes his hips back. He doesn’t have to tell Dean twice, because he’s barely keeping it together by now and starts pounding into his brother’s tight ass, setting a hard, fast rhythm that drives Sam against the wall, making his head repeatedly bang against the wall. Neither of them cares, because it feels too fucking good, and Sam is groaning loudly while Dean holds onto his hips like his life depends on it, biting Sam’s neck and shoulders and every part of him he can reach with his mouth.

It doesn’t take long until Dean’s saying, “gonna come soon, Sammy,” against the back of Sam’s neck, one hand letting go to take hold of Sam’s neglected cock, trying to time the movement of his hand with his thrusts. He can’t be doing bad because Sam’s getting louder, screaming like a whore while Dean pounds into him, rhythm faltering and stuttering a bit as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm.

"So good," Dean manages to say, and then he’s coming, riding out his orgasm as Sam closes a hand around Dean’s and jerks himself off, grinding back onto Dean’s still hard cock inside him until he comes, too, with a chocked shout, come painting his stomach and the wall.

In the room next to them, someone knocks against the wall to complain.


End file.
